Tevinter: Blight
by Vek Talis
Summary: Almost a century into the First Blight, Thedas is threatened by vile undead creatures rumored to have been spawned when Magisters attempted to enter the Golden City. Can this terrible pestilence be stopped, or is the Imperium doomed to destruction?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Tevinter: Blight

Author: Vek Talis

Fandom: Dragon Age video game series set in the fantasy world called Thedas.

Timeframe: Centuries before the games. -307, or in Tevinter years, 888TE.

Characters: All OCs.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Dragon Age series of games and I never will. Bioware and EA own it.

Summary: It's the 88th year of the First Blight. Thedas seems on the brink of disaster as undead-like creatures continue to ransack cities, towns and villages. No one has yet found a way to turn the tide against the vicious monsters.

"Those vile creatures wouldn't _dare_ attack us, here, Valoria, dear," Hera – Valoria's mother – said as they walked through their spacious home. "Oh, do be careful, Balthazar," she said to the slave elf who was dusting an expensive piece of pottery from Minrathous – it was a gift from a powerful family. "Slaves; they're so stupid and lazy," she whispered to her daughter.

"Especially if you treat them as less than human, Mother," Valoria said, even as she knew she wasted her breath.

"But they're _not_ human, dear," Hera said, scowling at her daughter. "Elves are a waste; why the gods created them, I'll never know." There were human slaves, of course: the Tevinter Imperium had been built on a foundation of the blood and bones of thousands of slaves.

Changing tack, Valoria touched the hilt of her sword. "Mother, it's only a matter of time before Ostwick is besieged by the undead. I must do my part to try and stem the tide."

The war against the mysterious beasts some called the undead and others named the Spawn, or the Dark Ones, was going poorly. Whole Tevinter legions were being wiped out. What was worse, some of the dead legionnaires seemed to join the ranks of the undead.

"Oh, pish, Valoria," Hera said. "The Spawn cannot long defeat our glorious armies. Your father will see to it that Ostwick remains safe."

Valoria sighed. Her mother was stuck in the safety net of the old Imperium. Barbarians to the south, far beyond the Waking Sea, which was Ostwick's border, had been attacking in waves for over a century. Each year, they encroached a little more on Imperial lands. The Imperium itself was weakening from internal strife; the Magisterium was full of self aggrandizing Magisters who cared little for anything beyond the walls of their own strongholds.

"Mother, the only reason Ostwick has remained safe thus far, is that the undead haven't attacked us." She'd said that a dozen times already. Her words slammed hopelessly against the wall of Hera's denial. Still, today was the day, regardless of what her mother wanted.

"We've done our best to show you the right way, dear," Hera said. "It was a great disappointment to us that you never developed magic."

How many times had she heard _that_? It was what every young girl needed to hear; how much of a disappointment she was to her parents. Perhaps her lack of magical ability was a blessing, rather than a curse? It had forced Valoria to develop her bodily strength, intelligence and agility.

When they reached the front door to their home, Valoria made a fist with her right hand, crossed it to touch her copper breastplate over her heart and bowed to Hera. "I will make the Nighthawke family proud, Mother, regardless of my magical ability or lack thereof."

Hera gave her the slightly irritated look she'd turned on her daughter too often the last few years. Like she'd bitten into a sour lemon. "You'll do what you have to, dear," she said, turning the term of endearment into something approaching a cuss word. "May Razikale, god of Mystery bring you back home. Someday." Hera took Valoria's hand, squeezed something into it. Quickly, her harsh brown eyes darted away and she turned. "Oh, dear; take your hands away from that priceless antique. Must I do _everything_ myself around this house? I never get much rest, looking after you louts." She hurried toward another servant – slave, was the accurate term – who seemed about to drop a dusty object.

Sighing again, Valoria opened the door, stepped out into the bright sunshine. When the heavy door clanged shut behind her, she smiled, for the first time since the last time she'd gotten out of the manor. The small pouch Hera had pressed into Valoria's hand was full of gold coins. Her parents couldn't be bothered to speak kindly to – or about – her, so they let money say what they should have to their daughter.

The cobbled streets teemed with life. Refugees from all over the marshlands and foothills of the Vimmark Mountains streamed into Ostwick day and night. All told horrific tales of the undead, how they seemed to rise from the ground, taking entire villages unawares in the night. The cities all along the Waking Sea bulged beyond capacity.

"Seems like the undead are making us easy targets," Valoria said to herself as she made her way along the busy street. Humans, dwarves and elves sat dejectedly along the sides of the roads, clutching their ragged worldly possessions. They had nowhere else to go.

"There you are."

Valoria turned, then smirked. "Larius; good to see you." She reached out, grasped the leather wrist protector he wore, as he took hold of her wrist – the standard greeting in Tevinter. "How fares the city?"

Larius was a tad shorter than she, but stockier through the chest. He scowled as he gazed at her through slits. "Not well, Valoria," he said. "More troops disappeared in the night. They tell me they're being dispatched to the villages in the area, to help evacuate, but I think they're moving north."

"Where north?" Valoria asked. "And why?"

"It's no secret Minrathous has been threatened of late," Larius said. "Some villages around the capital have been attacked. Say what you will of those greedy bastards, but if the capital falls, we will truly be on our own in the south."

"Aren't we already?" Valoria asked. She spread her arms to show the chaos in the streets. Few soldiers patrolled these days; bandits had already capitalized on the reduced presence. The scum of Thedas preyed upon their fellows, even as civilization crumbled around them.

"Not saying you're wrong," Larius said and smirked. "Just saying the Magisters think you're wrong."

"We should see if there's anything we can do today," Valoria said, rather than give her opinion about what the Magisterium could do with itself.

The guardhouse by the western gate was nearly abandoned. One soldier stood there, pike in his hand. "Oh, greetings Lady Nighthawke," he said when he recognized Valoria.

"Heard any news?" she asked.

"Everything's gone too quiet," the soldier said nervously. "Ain't had no refugees come down the road in days."

"Maybe that's a good thing." But Larius didn't sound any happier about it than Valoria felt.

"Some bandits took up old man Tutorius's place, though," the soldier said and pointed west. "I hear they's making more trouble than the local villagers can take."

"That's where we can start, then," Valoria said to Larius, who nodded.

"Be careful, Lady Nighthawke," the soldier said. "There ain't enough of us to come to the rescue if you get in deep."

"Valoria," Larius said as they walked. He sounded ambivalent, unlike himself.

"What?" she asked in return.

"Why do you think you turned out... the way you did?" That was why he fretted saying anything. Having been born into the Soporati class – barely more than a slave – he had no idea what it was like to be an Altus – one of the highest of the high. Of course, without magical ability to speak of, Valoria would likely tumble from her caste, once her parents died. Her name would fall as well, unless her parents managed to have another child, one gifted with magic.

"A blessing of the Creator?" Valoria shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, nor do I care much, Larius. In fact, I'm grateful; your life isn't really your own as an Altus. If I'd been born with magic, my parents would have doted on me, sure, but only to make certain I acted right and looked right, so they could fix me up with another powerful Altus mage. Then, they'd keep all their body parts crossed, hoping to have powerful grandchildren who might become Archon and rule the Magisterium. It's so not the life I wanted."

Instead, at eighteen, she had the world at her fingertips. Except for the attacks by the undead, of course.

As if thinking along with her, Larius shuddered. "Do you suppose those fool Magisters really are responsible for the Spawn?"

"I don't know," she said, then thought about it as they followed the dirt road westward. "Papa said he remembers the Black City always being thus, though Grandpa, before he died, used to tell me wondrous tales about _his_ grandfather's glimpses of the Golden City in his dreams. Back almost ninety years, I reckon."

When Magisters tried to usurp the power of the Creator, almost a century in the past, they'd sacrificed hundreds of slaves in Blood Magic rituals to breach the Fade – the veil which separated the material from spirit realm – and enter the Golden City, seat of the Creator. Due to their vile intentions, the city turned black and expelled them and the priests of Dumat who followed them, changing them into the first of the undead.

Every child growing up for the past nine decades had heard the stories. They were told around campfires and at bedtime so the children would be good and not turn into the Spawn. Valoria believed what she could see, hear, smell, touch and taste. Stories were to teach and inform. Whatever else they might be, might come to her with age and wisdom, or they might just be nothing more.

"That's what I figured," Larius said. "I think this is old man Tutorius's farm."

Valoria frowned. Instead of bandits, the place looked deserted. Then, she heard a commotion, past the house, farther west. Absently, she grasped the hilt of her sword, unsheathed the copper blade. "Come on," she said. Larius was already sliding the Ash bow from his back.

Skidding to a stop, Valoria gaped. The largest man she'd ever seen stood on the road, just beyond the farmhouse. She could see the tops of other people's heads, but little more. The giant stood, head and shoulders above the tall, dilapidated fence, which had apparently divided Tutorius's farm.

A handful of bandits swarmed around the giant, who wasn't making any hostile moves toward them. "I said gimme all you got! What are you, _stupid_? You can't understand simple talk?"

Weapons drawn, they were angry and ready to strike. The giant was unarmed, but the bandits circled him warily. Until they saw Valoria.

"Hey. That one looks like easier pickings," one of the thugs said. "You there, give us what you got, or this'll get violent."

"I guess this'll get violent, then," Valoria said eagerly. From her back, she slung her copper shield, reinforced with hard elm wood behind its shiny surface. There were those, farther north, who worked with copper and another, weaker metal. Together, they surprisingly made a stronger, less brittle one, called bronze. But, around Ostwick, everyone still used copper, stone or wood.

"Uh, Valoria." Larius's voice was quiet, ghostly.

All around them, bandits stalked from the bushes and trees and countryside. Where some had hidden, she wouldn't have been able to say. Some held bows and arrows, others clutched daggers in their hands. Still others carried swords and a large fellow – not nearly so large as the confused giant, but a head taller than Valoria – grabbed a two handed sword from his back.

In all, more than a dozen bandits now approached. Rather than fear, Valoria grinned, though her palms were a bit sweaty. "Take careful aim, Larius," she said, "and I'll do the same. We can do this."

The giant said something. His deep, rumbling voice stole everyone's attention. No one, however, could understand what it was. Valoria saw the worry in his eyes, though; his green orbs sought her out and she clearly understood that he didn't want her risking her life to help him, though she couldn't have said how she knew.

However, when the bandits turned their attention back to her, she knew it would be fight or die at their hands. For better or worse, this was her fight, now.

One of the bandits lunged forward, daggers ready to pierce her sides. She struck out with her shield; it thudded against his shoulder, deflecting him away. The point of her blade struck out to her right, to keep another bandit at bay. Then, she twirled toward the dagger wielding fellow. He tried to stop her blade with his daggers, and she hit him a glancing blow to the torso. An arrow to the neck dropped him to the ground, gabbling and clawing at it, but only for a few seconds.

Valoria twisted, turned and struck out at the bandits. She'd used her parents' allowance wisely since she turned twelve, hiring a slew of mercenaries to teach her the ins and outs of sword play, hand to hand combat and organized fencing.

Several bandits were down and the largest, the one with the two handed sword, raced toward Valoria. An arrow whizzed by, barely glancing the side of her face. It tugged at her loose hair, drawing her attention to her left. Just in time, her left arm flinched, causing her bent and dinged shield to collide with a knife. The weapon still struck her, but not deeply. Still, she screamed and thrashed, slamming the shield into the bandit who'd gotten too close.

Then, she heard it. The giant's roar nearly shook the earth. When she turned, the man with the two handed sword was nearly upon her. In the next moment, she might have died. Instead, a bandit flew into the one who charged her, knocking the two handed sword from his grip.

The giant rushed toward Valoria. For the first time since that first mercenary had stuck a blade beneath her chin at age twelve – to teach her a valuable lesson, rather than to harm her – her feet froze to the ground. He was going to pound her to death with his meaty fists.

Instead, the giant lowered his shoulder, passed Valoria, and ran, full speed, into a bandit who'd been sneaking up on Larius. The bandit groaned and flew back a dozen feet.

Released from her paralysis, Valoria blocked another sword. She turned it with her shield to expose the villain's side, then sunk her blade into it. The bandit crumpled to the ground. At last, the others began to scatter.

Now that the bandits were running, the giant seemed to relax. He glanced at Valoria and said something. "I don't understand," she said. "Can you say anything sensible?"

The giant's eyebrows knitted together and he cocked his head to the side. After a moment, the left side of his mouth arched and he spread his hands, palms up, before her.

"At least he seems intelligent," Valoria said.

"How, when he can't speak." Larius had come to stand beside her. He had an arrow in the calf of his right leg; the blood had already clotted and was drying on his flesh.

"Look at him," Valoria admonished her companion. "He makes gestures at the right moments. There's intelligence in his eyes and he has his own language; just because it isn't ours doesn't make him stupid."

She stepped toward the fellow. He looked human, despite his enormous size. Slowly, so he wouldn't think she was attacking, she sheathed her bent and scarred sword, then touched her equally bent breastplate. "Valoria," she said slowly. "Valoria Nighthawke."

Surprising a squawk from Larius, the giant placed his hand on his chest and said, "Jack Velis."

"By Dumat," Larius said and the giant's eyes immediately darted to him and his scowl returned. "I didn't mean anything bad," Larius said, quickly throwing up his hands before him.

"Maybe he knows that name," Valoria said. Dumat was the chief god of old Tevinter. By some accounts, the dragon led this onslaught of undead. "Dumat," she said slowly and the giant's – Jack's – scowl deepened.

"I'd say he knows that name, all right," Larius said. "Thing is, what do we do with him now?"

Valoria took another step closer and winced in pain. The stab wound she'd received during the fight began to sting. Now that adrenaline was wearing off, every knock she'd taken was starting to hurt. She reached to the flesh just above her hip, halfway around her back. Blood soaked her hand.

Quickly, Jack moved forward. Valoria yelped and grabbed for her sword, but the giant's hands were on her. Rather than crack her spine like a twig, the fellow's grip was firm but yielding. His hand warmed against her body and pain slipped away.

"Let her go," Larius said, drawing a dagger. The giant arched an eyebrow at Valoria and a ghost of a smirk played about his lips.

"He's not hurting me, Larius," she said. "In fact, I think he's healing me. Put that pig sticker away; you really think that'll do anything but make him mad?"

"I... guess not," Larius said and sheathed the dagger. "Truth be told, I'm glad he's not hurting you. Don't think there's thing one I could do about it. Did you see the way he picked up that thug and just... tossed him like he was tossing his small clothes?"

"I doubt his small clothes are... small," Valoria said around a grin. Soon, all the pains in her body were gone. When she twisted herself to get a look at the wound on her flank, she marveled that it seemed to already be scarring over.

She raised her right hand, placed it over her heart and stared up into those sharp green eyes. "Thank you," she said slowly. Jack nodded, then turned toward Larius, gazed down at the other man's leg. "I think he wants to help with that arrow, Larius," she said.

"All right," Larius said. "Not like I could hobble away fast enough, anyway."

Jack placed his hands around Larius's leg; the meaty palms made the calf disappear. Instantly, Larius's face went slack and he sighed. "Feels good, I have to admit."

All at once, Jack yanked the arrow from Larius's leg, but her friend didn't cry out, or even seem to notice. "Incredible," Valoria said.

"What?" Now, Larius looked down and gaped when he saw the arrow lying on the ground.

Suddenly, the soldier from the gate ran toward them, pike in his hands. Eyes bulged and the soldier skidded to a halt before them. "Lady Nighthawke!"

"What is it?" Valoria asked.

"The Spawn is attacking Emerius," the soldier cried. "We ain't got enough soldiers on the whole southern coast to help."

"We should head there, then," Valoria said. At last, a chance to battle the undead. She looked to Jack, who was watching the soldier and Larius's concerned faces. She touched his hand, then her breastplate. "You, come with me, to help?" she asked.

Jack looked at the soldier, then to Larius, then finally back at Valoria. He touched first his chest, then her shoulder, then nodded vigorously.

Valoria smiled warmly up at him. "Thank you," she said slowly, trying to teach him her language, a bit at a time.

"Thank you," Jack said back, slowly and awkwardly. However, when she replayed his tone in her head, he might have been emphasizing 'you'. Maybe he was trying to thank her for helping him, rather than dismissing him as a fool. He scooped up the two handed sword; he held it easily in one hand.

Whatever Jack's situation, he would be a great help. "It's good to have a giant on your side," Valoria said as they ran toward the city stables. She owned several horses. With luck, Jack would be able to ride the strongest. They had work to do.


	2. Chapter 2

2

The journey southwest along the Imperial Highway should have taken three days. Instead, refugees packed the road, causing delays. It took them five days to near Emerius. The refugees all had similar stories: none had seen the horde of undead, but neither would they take any chances.

"I hope this isn't some big misunderstanding," Valoria said as they camped in the shadow of the Vimmark Mountains. Emerius was a fledgling port city for the Imperium on the Waking Sea. Slaves, taken from the colonies south, across the sea, would be processed there. It's giant sea walls, chains extending into the waters, had to be an ominous sight to newly arriving slaves.

They camped, that last night, with the walls visible. Very few legion soldiers had passed them on the roads. There didn't seem to be many around.

"I don't hear any signs of battle," Valoria said as the campfire crackled and popped. The sun was just dipping below the horizon.

"Pardon me if I don't shed a tear," Larius said. "I could live quite happily never meeting one of the Spawn."

Jack, still mostly mute, but picking up a word here and there, pointed westward.

"That's Emerius," Larius said to the giant.

The big man shook his head, pointed more vehemently.

Darkness replacing the glow of sunset, Valoria looked in the direction his finger pointed. A bright reddish hue lingered, yet it wasn't in the precise direction of the setting sun.

"Oh," Valoria said. "There may be a fire in Emerius, Larius. That could certainly indicate fighting."

"Yeah, but not necessarily," Larius said airily as he gazed that way.

For more than an hour, they engaged in conversation on mundane matters. Valoria had some small clothes that needed mending and Larius wondered how much Jack could understand and how much he'd ever be able to speak. The giant continued to watch the lights to the west.

Soon, the pale moon rose over the mountains. It was full, and cast enough light that Valoria could see the fringes of wood they camped beside, even with the campfire blazing. Insects chirped happily and the travelers ate meat scorched over the fire.

Before rolling herself in her blanket to try and sleep, Valoria patted Jack on the back, pointing toward the bed rolls. The giant shook his head, then pointed toward the sky. Storm clouds rushed toward them from the west. It was commonly known that the fiercest undead attacks were accompanied by storms. The greater the storm, the more terrible the attack.

"Maybe we should head into the city now, Larius," Valoria said. A stiff, chill wind swept over them in the next moment. All the insects and other wildlife immediately went silent. Faint metallic dings and distant shouts whispered out beyond the walls of Emerius.

"Uh, are you sure, Valoria?" her friend asked tentatively. Lightning crackled in the distance and Larius jumped. "Maybe we should wait to see if the army responds, first."

"You said it yourself: the legions are probably heading back to Minrathous," Valoria said, her mind made up. "Let's go; there might be something we can do to help."

They doused the campfire and headed west. The heavy smell of blood began to waft from Emerius. Screams pierced the ever increasing reddish glow. Valoria had mended her sword, shield and armor on the first night they'd camped away from Ostwick. Now, she unsheathed her copper sword. Larius absently fingered his Ash bow as they walked their horses forward.

"There," Larius said, pointing. He took a big gulp. Civilians, or the remains of civilians, were scattered along the road. Their pack animals were in a similar state of dismemberment.

"What monsters could do such things to citizens trying to flee?" Valoria spat the words out, as if they were what caused the bad taste in her mouth. Until that moment, she'd thought of the undead as just another martial force: evil, perhaps, but preying on its enemy in a military way.

Great gates into the city were closed tightly. No soldiers patrolled the area. Despite the sounds of commotion coming from inside, the immediate area had a ghostly feel.

"Hello," Valoria called up. "We're here to help; open the gate." Silence dropped on her from the gatehouse. They were close enough at last to hear the crackling of fires and spot thick, black clouds of smoke rising in plumes.

"I think we're going to have to find another way in," Larius said. He didn't sound too displeased at the prospect. "Maybe come back in the morning."

Up until this point, Jack had seemed content to follow Valoria. The screams from inside Emerius seemed to animate him. His eyes kept darting this way, then that. He gazed up toward the top of the walls, perhaps hoping to see something or someone.

"We can't just leave, Larius," Valoria said, tying her horse to a tree, far enough away from the walls so the animal would be safe. "There's definitely something going on in there." She approached the gate. It didn't appear locked. However, as she pushed on it, it barely budged. "Come help, Larius; I think there's something blocking the gate."

While Larius hesitated, Jack didn't. He similarly tied up his horse – he didn't ride the poor animal as much as the others, due to his size and weight – and hurried to the gate. It swung slightly inward and Valoria could see a wagon turned on its side leaning against it.

Jack touched her shoulder, made motions of pushing her back. Reluctantly, Valoria heeded and stepped away. The giant bent at the knees and lunged forward, ramming his shoulder into the gate. Valoria heard wood splintering behind it. After a second attempt, the gate swung open. The large, heavy wagon had flipped from its side onto its wheels and no longer blocked the road.

"Well done," Valoria said, before drawing her sword again and slinging her shield from her back to slide over her left wrist. A citizen ran for the gate, shrieking. Jack reached out to him, but he quickly dropped to the ground, a flaming arrow in his back.

"Undead!" Valoria shouted as she turned to meet the threat. Then, she stared, her jaw going slack. The little undead creature's skin was rotten and one of its eyes hung from its socket. It wore tattered rags and little hair, while its teeth were permanently bared because its lips had rotted away. She wasn't as prepared as she thought she'd been to see something so grotesque. Rumors had seemed wild and ridiculous. Now, she realized they were understated, told by people who probably hadn't seen one of the monsters up close.

It howled ferociously at her before nocking another arrow in its bow. Her feet were frozen in place; her fingers felt like icicles as they gripped her sword tightly. The creature was about as large as she'd imagined a dwarf would be. Dwarves were another people she'd only heard about, rather than met. Ostwick contained a few, but she'd never encountered one.

Other useless ideas surged through her mind as the undead took aim at her. _Is this what they mean by your life flashes before your eyes when you're about to die?_ she thought in a split second. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't will her feet to move.

Before the undead loosed its arrow, however, Jack cleaved it in half with the two handed sword he swung in his right. The giant hurried back to her, wrapped his big hand around her left, gave it a mild squeeze. His searching green orbs pierced down into her.

Another undead, this one taller and not as stocky as the archer, appeared around a corner. It snarled and raised its sword. Three more, one of which was short and stocky, hurried to its side. They all hissed and raised weapons.

"I think we got more company," Larius said.

Finally, Valoria took a step back on her left foot. Her hand slipped out of Jack's, and she touched him on the hip. "I'm all right now, Jack," she said slowly.

Larius unleashed an arrow at the leader of the troop. The arrow grazed its arm and it let out a feral howl. A moment later, it crumpled to the ground as Jack's mighty fist – nearly as large as the creature's skull – slammed into it. The giant stuck the sword into its belly as it lay, scrabbling in the dirt.

Valoria screamed and charged one of the other creatures. It swung its sword at her, but her shield was there to block the blow. She jabbed forward with her weapon, piercing the undead's leg. Quickly, she withdrew the blade and crossed swords with the fiend. Her blade slid down the length of the other, knocked it away and buried itself in the undead's midsection. It groaned as it dropped to the ground, no longer undead, just dead.

"At least they die like any ordinary foe," Valoria said as she glanced back to Larius. An arrow of his whizzed by, sunk into the cheekbone of another undead creature. It fell backward, clutching at the shaft of the arrow.

"Wonderful," Larius said.

"Oh, please help!" A girl of about thirteen ran toward them. "Them darkspawn, they're trying to take my family!"

"Show us," Valoria said. She'd never heard that name for the undead before, though variations on the theme were common.

Fire leaped from the tops of buildings as they raced down an alley. Screaming civilians ran here and there in a dazed panic, plodding undead in their wakes. Bodies were everywhere, many were soldiers. Valoria tried to focus on what she was doing – she'd never seen so much death before. She began to question if she'd made the right decisions in her life, if this was where those decisions led.

When the girl they followed skidded to a halt, she pointed a quivering finger. A ramshackle home stood at the end of the alley. Fire licked the wooden walls, sending waves of heat at Valoria. An undead, then another, moved back and forth inside. Muffled shouts came from the home.

"I'm not going in there," Larius said, shaking his head. "No way."

Jack was already halfway there, when Valoria turned back toward it. "Wait," she called, tightening her grip on the sword. She pounded after him.

The giant had to nearly bend in half to get inside. A screech pulled Valoria's attention to the right. One of the undead had a young girl slung over its shoulder. It was trying to carry her away, to gods only knew what horrible fate.

"Hey!" Valoria screamed, drawing the creature's attention. The girl, perhaps ten, wriggled and kicked, trying to escape its grasp. Valoria surged forward, slamming her shield into the fiend. It dropped the girl and she ran, screaming toward the girl who had led them here. Valoria dodged a knife strike by the undead, then rammed her right shoulder into its chest, staggering the undead backward. Her blade rose and skewered the monster and it fell, hissing its dying curses into the sky.

"Look out!" the older girl shouted.

Valoria looked up, then leaped to her right. Burning roof fell, striking her leg but doing little damage. "Thanks," she said. "Where's Jack?" she asked Larius as she dusted herself off.

"Still in there," her friend said, pointing at the house. The fire had nearly consumed it.

"Jack!" Valoria yelled and ran to the house. More of the burning roof crumpled, taking some scorched wall with it.

The side of the house seemed to explode outward. Valoria leaped backward, sword and shield at the ready. Then, she relaxed. Jack, carrying a man and woman over each shoulder, had knocked down the wall to escape the inferno. Coughs rumbled from his heaving chest as he set the two adults down on their feet.

"Gods," he said, coughing as well. He stepped forward, hugged the older girl. The younger one grabbed both of them, hugged them tightly. "Thank you," he said to Valoria. "My name is Gavorius, and this is Miri." The woman Jack rescued was perhaps thirty, dark blonde and curtsied to them. "I'm in charge of the slaves quartered in the city," Gavorius continued. "Will you help me get to them?"

"Sure," Valoria said. "Did you have any warning this attack was coming?" she asked as they ran blindly down more streets. Buildings burned and crumbled; citizens tried to escape and undead rampaged.

"None," Gavorius said. "We thought we were safe behind our walls here."

"What are you going to do with the slaves?" Larius asked as they found the main road. It led down toward the docks and a fortified space between the dock and city proper.

"Try to save them, if we can," Gavorius said. Just when Valoria thought he might have altruistic motives, he added, "They're worth a lot of money."

"Let me have a weapon," Miri said as they hurried forward. When Valoria didn't have one to spare, she turned to Jack, pointed at his sword. Taking it in his meaty hand, by the blade, he held it out to her. "Thank you," Miri said. The two handed sword seemed almost too heavy for her, but she was determined.

"Blast," Gavorius said. "The gates are already open. The darkspawn are attacking the slaves in their cages."

Dozens of undead prowled the slave holding area. Valoria saw individual cages open, some hauntingly empty. The undead swarmed toward them, hissing and snarling.

"Take your children and run," Valoria told Gavorius.

"If you can get to it, there's a lever that opens all the cages at once," the slave tender said, gathering up his daughters by hand. He pointed to a platform above the cages.

Valoria nodded, then turned to her enemy. Larius fired an arrow at the lead undead, knocking the creature backward. A sword struck hers, nearly knocking it from her grasp. She got her shield up in time to block the knife of a second enemy. She spun away from the thickest danger, then parried another blade, before lunging.

Missing, she retracted her sword, brought the shield up to protect herself. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the older woman swinging the two handed sword above her head in an arc that lopped the head clean off an undead. Jack hurled another one across the battlefield at its companions, knocking down several.

"Help!" Larius shouted. Two undead lashed out at him with knives.

Valoria tried to come to her friend's aid, but one of the fiend's struck at her, slicing into her leather mail. Spinning to her left, her shield hand batted away the blade, and momentum took her around, the point of her sword jabbing into the creature's leg. It howled and tried to parry. Valoria beat away the strike and buried her blade in its chest.

When she turned back to Larius, Jack was there, holding both undead by their necks. The giant slammed the two creatures together and they dropped to the ground.

"Help us!" Elven and human slaves screamed and clawed at the bars of their cages. "Don't leave us here." The elves had a language of their own. Some of them gabbled in it – Valoria had never understood it – but others spoke Tevene – the Tevinter Imperium's language – fairly well.

"Let's get up there and open the cages," she shouted to her companions. They hurried up the ramp leading to the platform. Only a few of the undead followed, the others scattered.

For a moment, Valoria looked into the sky. The storm clouds were passing over Emerius. They were headed in the direction of... "Home," she said quietly. Hopefully, they were ordinary storm clouds. Rumor was often wrong, but sometimes not. Emphatic rumor said that the archdemon – the old god the undead had corrupted into their leader – rode the storm clouds. The fact that the archdemon was a dragon god of Tevinter worship made the rumor seem all the more plausible.

"We're going to need help," Miri said when they reached the top of the platform. The large wheel that controlled the cage doors had thick chains wrapped around it. "Normally, five men work this," she said. "I'm surprised Gavorius didn't mention that."

"Maybe you didn't get properly introduced to your savior," Valoria said. "You've met Jack, though."

Miri gazed up, up. "Oh, yes," she said, blushing slightly. Her gaze dropped to her boots and she ran her fingers through her matted hair. "We've met," she added quietly.

As if sensing what was going on, Jack looked at the wheel, took in a deep breath. He grabbed one of the thick copper handles, set his feet out in front of him, and began to strain. The metal squealed, then slowly began to turn.

"Let's help," Valoria said, then set her hand on Larius's shoulder. "You keep your bow ready and we'll handle this."

Miri grabbed one of the spokes in front of Jack, facing the giant and pushed while he pulled. Valoria took up a position behind them both and pulled. Once the wheel began turning in earnest, it sped up a bit and became easier to manage.

Soon, all the cage doors were sliding open. Slaves exploded from them, running here and there. Panic overtook the slaves and citizens as they met each other in the streets. The few soldiers remaining were trampled by the fleeing slaves. More pandemonium ensued.

"We should leave," Valoria said. More undead stalked the streets. "Back to Ostwick."

"Are you happy now?" Larius whispered to Valoria as they hurried toward the gate they'd come in through. "We killed some Spawn, but started a riot."

"We saved some people," Valoria said, glancing toward Gavorius and his family. "And we met the Darkspawn."

"I could have done without the introduction," Larius said.

Valoria grinned at her friend, then turned to Gavorius. "Will you and your wife and daughters come with us?" she asked.

Gavorius turned to Miri and they exchanged a smile. "She's my sister," he said. He still had his daughters by the hands. "And yes, we'll be happy to come with you. I sure don't think it's a good idea to stay here."

Something had to be done against the Darkspawn. Valoria didn't know what, though. No one else had come up with an idea, either. They seemed to spring up from the ground at times. Organized armies fell regularly to them and always their numbers grew. It seemed hopeless, but Valoria wasn't ready to give up. Not after they'd whet her appetite for a fight. Her earlier trepidation vanished as the rush of saving people and elves sank into her heart. This was indeed what she'd trained so hard and long for.


	3. Chapter 3

3

The closer Valoria got to home, the more her worst fears were being realized. Those storm clouds, said to gather where the Darkspawn would strike, hung low over Ostwick. It took the travelers the normal three day journey to come within sight of the walls. Chaos crept from those walls as they approached.

"Your father is one of the big shots in Ostwick, isn't he?" Larius asked.

"Yes," Valoria said tightly.

A dwarven caravan inched forward on the road alongside them. One of the dwarves in the wagon leaned out. "You fellows look plenty well armed. Are you for hire?"

"Sure we are," Larius said, his most charming smile sliding across his lips. "What brings you to Ostwick in such dire times?"

"The sodding luck of the Stone," the dwarf man replied. "We were supposed to trade in Emerius; that place is a ruin. Do all you surfacers foul your own nests?"

"It was the undead who wrecked Emerius," Valoria said absently, her mind on her parents. How were Hera and Ecktorius faring? Though she didn't get along well with them, they were still family. She had cousins, of course: both her parents had siblings. But they cared little for the black sheep of the family.

Oh, she could cast a low level spell or two – and poorly, at that – but magic had always been weak in her. Thankfully, the spirits and demons of the Fade didn't seem drawn to her, as a result. While a person slept, their spirit traveled across the Veil to the Fade, the first realm the Creator had made. There, His first creations, spirits and demons, dwelt. A demon could possess a living being; it was a constant danger for one strong in magic.

"The undead?" The dwarf who'd spoken furrowed his wide brow. Dwarves resembled people, just a lot shorter and stockier. "You mean the darkspawn?"

"Yes, darkspawn clawed up from below," Miri said. Valoria had been pleased to discover the older woman was a fine warrior. She kept the two handed sword Jack had given her, slung on her back. "They came out of the Vimmark Mountains, too. It was overwhelming in a short span."

"We know all about the Darkspawn," the dwarf said, his voice grave. "Byrohk Aeducan, master trader, at your service, miss," he added, a little livelier than before. "The Deep Roads is where those bastards first poked their unwelcome heads. Our thaigs have battled them constantly for nearly a century, while on the surface, you get some brief respites."

"What's a 'thaig'?" Larius asked.

"One of our cities," Byrohk answered. "The names come from our clans, as well. When a new Paragon is chosen, he or she claims a new house, and they usually seek a site to form a new thaig. That thaig then takes on the name of the Paragon."

"Paragon?" Miri asked.

Valoria didn't listen after that. Flames shot up around the road leading to Ostwick. Thick, black smoke rose in the distance. It looked similar to Emerius, except darker, more sinister. The reason, of course, was that this was her home, not some nearby town with little connection for her.

Thankfully, she at last saw signs of the legion. One of their banners flapped in the late morning breeze. Units were spread out across a wide field, rolling toward Ostwick from the foothills of the Vimmarks. Arms of the mountains stretched out to partially enclose the field. Darkspawn attacked the units.

"We need to help," Valoria said, drawing her sword. Copper could only be shaped so many times before it snapped for good. Her weapon, armor and shield were becoming brittle. For the moment, though, they would function well enough. She glanced to Jack, who was already sliding off his horse. The giant looked to her and nodded, before hurrying forward.

"Stay with your wagon and you should be fine," she heard Larius tell Byrohk Aeducan as he slung his bow off his back.

Valoria dropped from her horse, handing the reins to Byrohk. "Would you, please?" she asked.

"Aye, I'll watch your mounts," Byrohk said. "I can't travel further with those monsters there, anyway."

Gavorius and his children remained with the dwarves.

Not only was Miri a fair fighter, she was also swift on her feet. Valoria had to exert herself to keep up with the older woman. Her lungs ached and she realized she hadn't done enough cardio training, while learning to fight. If she stayed alive long enough, though, she guessed she'd get better.

Jack had a big head start on all of them. He crashed into a long line of darkspawn. How they didn't see the giant coming was a testament to their focus on the legion before them, or their stupidity. Valoria wasn't sure which.

The giant grabbed up two of the short, stocky spawn and hurled them at one of the taller ones. Just then, Valoria realized the shorter darkspawn were probably corrupted dwarves; the larger fiends were humans. The human darkspawn lost its grip on a longsword it carried. Soon, that weapon was in Jack's hand. It looked more like a dagger now, but he used it to great effect, slicing through the torso of a darkspawn.

Mages among the legion hurled a ball of fire toward a cluster of darkspawn. Valoria would delight in watching them burn. However, one of them raised a staff and the fireball extinguished before it dropped on them.

Screeching, Valoria changed direction, charging at the darkspawn mage. The copper blade bit into the fiend. It whirled, and the blunt end of its staff rushed toward her. She got her shield up in time to block the blow, then she swept her arm toward the creature, catching its chin with the edge of the shield. With a second slash from her blade, blood sprayed from the creature's neck and it dropped to the ground.

A storm of arrows caught her attention. They rained down on a troop of darkspawn in front of her. Jack was already heading their way, the longsword clutched in his meaty hand. To her left, Miri was trading blows with a darkspawn. She feinted left, then twisted, getting the two handed blade past the fiend's defenses. It crumpled, shrieking as it died.

A series of snarls stole Valoria's attention as she charged the next group of darkspawn. From her left, one of the legion units unleashed its liguars, big cats trained in obedience and combat. They'd been bred specially for the legions to be vicious and strong. Hopefully, they could also tell friend from foe.

The animals hit the darkspawn like a wave. One shrieked when a fiend bit it. Darkspawn swarmed toward the beasts and their wranglers.

Then, Valoria caught sight of a group of mages on a small rise in the middle of the field. They were protected by soldiers carrying pikes, but the darkspawn seemed to be concentrating their numbers against them. One of the mages lifted his staff up high. A roar rumbled from the hill and a few darkspawn tumbled backward, as though they'd been swept away with an invisible scythe. And perhaps, in a sense, they had.

Valoria thought she recognized the robes this mage wore. "Father?" she asked, though no one was near enough to hear her, let alone answer. "This way," she shouted to her companions, waving her arm over her head. Larius, in the distance, nodded and sent a flaming arrow toward the fiends clustered around the hill.

More mages stepped forward. Valoria watched them call forward chained slaves. She knew what was coming next, or at least part of it. The mages, knives in their hands, cut into their own hands. Blood magic. The slaves began to groan. Flickering purple and red lights swirled around the slaves, and they began to scream in pain. Their bodies seemed to explode in a grisly scene. When the bright, shimmering lights vanished, the slaves were gone. In their stead stood Rage demons, lava-like skin pulsating red. The demons rushed forward, howling at the darkspawn.

Through the rites of blood magic, the mages were able to bring forth the demons from the Fade and control them. But it took much power and blood to sustain their efforts. And only the strongest mages could hope to command a demon for very long. More slaves were brought forth, so they might serve as the sacrifices to keep the demons in this world.

It was one of the reasons Valoria was happy she'd been born without much magical ability. The practice of blood magic was abhorrent to her, though her parents, and most of the powerful in the Imperium, used it as often as they deemed necessary.

As she charged, several darkspawn broke off from the main attack and turned toward her. An arrow whizzed by her, grazed one of the fiends. Valoria turned to see Larius wince sheepishly at her. It was his arrow that came a bit too close to her. "Watch where you point that thing," she called back to him.

When she turned, a darkspawn was on her, growling ferociously. She had just enough time to raise her shield. The blow from a mace she blocked would have taken off her head. As it was, it staggered her. This darkspawn was a strong fellow. She slashed with her sword, but it dodged, then kicked at her, catching her knee from behind. This set her off balance so when it lunged forward, she toppled.

Standing above her, the darkspawn howled, then sent its mace hurtling toward her. She rolled, hearing the thud as the heavy weapon slammed into the soft earth. With her shield arm, she lashed out at the weapon, knocking it away from the darkspawn's grasp. Then she rolled herself backward, legs over her head, until she was back on her feet.

The fiend tossed some dirt into her face. For a moment, she was blind, but she struck out as the fiend tried to hit her with its fist. The darkspawn shrieked in pain, and Valoria took another swipe at it with her shield. This one staggered the fiend and turned it halfway around. Her blade sank into its side and it howled again.

"Damn," she said when the creature died. Her now fragile blade snapped like a twig. In the middle of a battle, that was far from good.

More darkspawn came down from the mountains. Still more poured from Ostwick. The situation grew more desperate as each minute passed.

"Father," Valoria called. The man at the top of the hill glanced her way, then waved. It was Ecktorius. As she watched, she realized his wave wasn't welcoming. He was trying to send her away. Darkspawn surrounded the hill on which he stood.

"Father," Valoria yelled with a different tone from the last. She hurried forward, the blunted sword still clutched in her hand.

Jack quickly stepped in her way. The giant held out the longsword he'd taken. Gratefully, she took the hilt in mid stride. Soon, they both ran side by side, toward the thickest fighting.

"Stay back, Valoria," Ecktorius yelled. "You can't help us." When he raised his staff again, an unseen force shoved Jack and Valoria back several paces.

A terrible screech seemed to tear the sky. Lightning crashed down on Ostwick and the air around her seemed to rumble. A black form dropped from the clouds above. It twisted and writhed and seemed to blacken the already dark clouds which had previously hidden it.

"Is that?" Rather than finish the thought, Valoria felt her jaw go slack. Never before had she witnessed something so terrible.

A thunderous shriek stopped everyone and everything in its tracks. Swooping, the archdemon opened its mouth. Flame crackled from its jaws, bathing the legion soldiers in searing orange-red light.

Valoria had to rip her eyes away from the awesome sight. The deep breath she inhaled nearly choked her with cinder and smoke. Next, her vision fixed on her father, standing majestically against a backdrop of gloom and shadow. He raised his staff again, in mortal defiance of the archdemon and the darkspawn.

"Daddy!" Valoria screamed and dropped her sword. Griffons, corrupted by the darkspawn, swooped down from the clouds in aid of the archdemon. One had its thick, razor sharp talons on Ecktorius before he could do anything to stop it.

"Save yourself, Valoria," Ecktorius shouted, then screamed as the griffon flapped its wings and took off.

"We need to go, Valoria." The familiar voice barely registered in her ears. It was Larius, but all she could do was stare at her father before he disappeared among the dark clouds.

When Jack's big hand came to rest on her shoulder, she glared at the giant. His eyes, full of compassion, at last forced a tear to breech her gruff exterior. The Rage demons were falling, the mages were going under a wave of darkspawn. The legion units were too scattered and fell back. If she stayed any longer, she wouldn't make it off this battlefield.

At last, she nodded to Jack and turned back the way she'd come. Larius and Miri were perhaps a hundred yards behind, the older woman defending the rogue so he could continue to fire arrows at the fiends. "Come on," Miri shouted.

Immediately following her call, the archdemon roared again. It circled the battlefield from above, raining fire down on the scattered remnant of the once proud legion. There were those who said it couldn't be defeated. At one battle, long before Valoria was born, the legions had surprised a horde of darkspawn. They'd viciously attacked the archdemon, but the monster wouldn't die.

"There has to be a way," Valoria mumbled as she ran toward her horse. Rumor said the darkspawn would overrun Thedas and destroy all humankind. But rumor could be wrong.

Thankfully, Byrohk Aeducan was still where they left him. He said nothing as Valoria and her followers mounted their horses.

"Where will we go?" Larius asked.

"North," Valoria said. "And west." The barbarians in the Anderfel Mountains to the far northwest raised griffons as fighting mounts. They were hardy warriors the Imperium hadn't managed to conquer, despite many attempts. If she could somehow bring the best of what the barbarians had to offer to the mages of the legions, maybe that would be enough to stop the Horde.

"Care to travel with us?" Valoria asked Gavorius, Miri and Byrohk.

"I will," Miri said at once.

Gavorius nodded slowly. "I doubt many cities will be safe anymore," he said. "And I certainly don't want to go to Minrathous."

"Why not?" Larius asked.

The slim, studious looking man took in a deep breath. "I used to be in the Magisterium," he said, shocking Valoria deeply. She didn't think he had magic. As if reading her thoughts, he continued, "I've spoken out against blood magic enough times that the other Magisters wanted to make me one of their sacrifices. I'm ashamed to practice magic."

"Under the circumstances..." Valoria didn't complete the sentence, because it wasn't her place to force him to help them.

But Gavorius nodded. "You're right, of course. I'll have to find a suitable staff, but I will aid you."

"I can't offer to fight with you," Byrohk said. "I was born into the merchant caste, and never held a sodding blade in my life. Except to sell 'em, of course," he added with a chuckle.

"But, you seem like a good crew," the merchant went on. "If you'll help protect me and my family and my wares, then I'll pay you and give you a good discount in my store." To Gavorius he said, "And since you'll be helping protect my kin, I'll look after your daughters."

Gavorius nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly. To Valoria, he turned and said, "Perhaps Lizzy, my eldest, might start to learn the blade. She's thirteen, but I suspect humanity will need all the help it can get to survive."

"I can learn, da." Lizzy drew herself up straight and tall.

"Very well," Valoria said. "We'll have to find some bronze weapons and armor as well. Our copper equipment won't last nearly as long." She noted that the new sword Jack had given her was made of bronze. It didn't have so much as a nick in it.

Her thoughts returned to her parents. Hera was certainly dead. She rarely left their manor home. The darkspawn had lain waste to Ostwick. Even if she wanted to search for the possibility her mother might have escaped, there were too many of the fiends. And Ecktorius, her father; she might never be able to forget the horrible sight of him being lifted into the sky by that terrible corrupted griffon.

Absently, she felt someone's eyes on her as they camped among the Vimmark Mountains. Jack cocked his head, watched her through sad eyes. She gave him a feeble smile.


	4. Chapter 4

4

Jack ate some seared meat, cooked on the campfire. The events of the past week had been quite surreal. He'd appeared in a new world, though it had been vaguely familiar at first. After living for, how many thousands of years, he didn't even remember, in that other dimension, now he was in a very primitive setting indeed.

The fact that he couldn't even communicate with these people was difficult. Not that he had much to say. What could he tell them? That he'd outlived so many people he wanted this wretched existence to end? That he felt the cosmos had cursed him with immortality to torment him?

Instead, he tried to adjust to his new surroundings. He'd get used to sleeping under the stars again, rather than among them.

But, their scale was strange, too. Where he'd come from, and where he'd spent thousands of years, he was only slightly taller than average. Here, the tallest humans barely came halfway up his chest.

And then, when he faced the darkspawn, vague recollections began to make sense. In a way. He'd been taken to yet another 'fantasy' world. The universe was indeed cruel. It was a Blight, to be sure. The archdemon who screeched above him that last battle left little doubt in his mind. Oh, there were 'normal' dragons here, but they didn't command darkspawn. Now, if he could, he needed to find out when in time he was. Not that it really mattered; he was here and it was now.

His new companions were friendly. Valoria seemed nice and she could fight quite well. He got the sense – perhaps some latent ability left over from where he lived last – that she might be pivotal in ending this Blight. Or for some other reason. She had an important destiny, regardless of the specifics.

As he ruminated, a presence came to rest beside him. A small, calloused hand touched his knee. Beside him, Miri smiled up at him. She was what he considered quite attractive. Except for her ridiculous hairstyle. Almost buzzcut on one side, longer on the other, it was nearly a manly style that didn't suit her at all.

On the other hand, her long, thin face, sharp nose and chin reminded him of someone he'd known. It was so long ago he couldn't put a name to her, but he'd been full of desire for her. Miri looked striking, the orange-red campfire making her left cheek glow and her hazel-green eyes sparkle.

"Oh, if only," he said, and she furrowed her brow, trying to understand what he was saying. He'd picked up only a couple of words of their language, but no one seemed to understand anything he said.

Valoria rose quickly from her seat. The bronze blade he'd taken from the darkspawn in the battle was in her hand in an instant. She turned toward the wood fringing the campsite.

Then Jack heard the sound. Whimpering, then scratching in the dirt. An animal was out there, in great pain. By now, the others were also going for weapons, the scoundrel Larius was reaching around to his quiver to grab an arrow. Jack stepped forward, past Valoria. He turned, held up his hands, palms toward them. They relaxed and he turned back toward the sounds.

As quietly as he could, he made his way into the thicket. The whimpering grew louder, but a tiny snarl accompanied it. "It's all right," Jack said. "I'm here to help."

One of the large cats he'd seen on the battlefield was scratching in the dirt. It looked up at him and leaned backward in a threatening posture. The growl it unleashed was meant to frighten, but Jack heard the anguish and fear in it.

"Easy, kitty," he said and crouched on one knee. He focused all his attention on the cat and held out some seared meat. He held out his other hand, palm open, so the animal could see he was unarmed. "Just the meat and no tricks," he whispered.

The side of the cat glistened in the pale moonlight which filtered down through the pines. That wasn't good, or he suspected as much. Tentatively, the cat relaxed from its threatening posture, but didn't approach.

"I have all night, kitty," Jack said and relaxed himself further. A few particles of light began to swirl around him and he closed his eyes. In his mind, he pictured the light swarming around the cat, penetrating its body to wipe out the fear and pain which coursed through it.

When he opened his eyes, the cat eyed him differently. Carefully, it stalked forward, took the meat from his outstretched hand. It sniffed his open hands. Happily, it began to chew the meat before swallowing it. A happy purr came from its belly and it took another step closer to him, before pain washed over its features and it recoiled.

"Easy, beautiful," Jack said. Slowly, he leaned forward, his outstretched hand touching the big cat's nose, then glided easily over its head. The cat dropped to its right side and its big paw came to rest atop his hand.

"Yes, you'll let me take a look at this now," he said and inched forward. The cat's left side was open and bloody. He placed his right hand over it and closed his eyes again. "I guess I still have what they'd call magic here," he said quietly as he felt the sinews and skin begin to mend. When he opened his eyes, the cat looked well pleased.

He closed his hand into a tight fist, then opened it widely, feeling energy surge from him. The cat began to purr softly, its breathing slowed and its eyes closed.

"Jack? You good?" Valoria's voice fluttered into the wood. Thankfully, the cat didn't stir. Some other words Jack didn't understand followed the first.

"Yes. Good," he replied. He pulled away some tufted mats of fur from the cat's flank. The dried, caked blood would take some time to wash away, but the claw marks were closing up nicely. The cat slumbered peacefully enough he guessed he could pick it up. When he did, the cat's purr intensified, but it remained docile.

Carrying it out of the wood, Jack felt the tension in his companions rise. He shook his head, warning them not to harm the cat. He set it down near the fire and it barely stirred.

"Good," he said to Valoria, and touched the cat, petting its head and scratching behind its ear.

Reluctantly, Valoria nodded, then glanced around at her companions. They relaxed after a few words were exchanged.

As he sat down again, Miri sat beside him. The smile she wore was warier than before, but probably because of the presence of the big cat. Her hand came to rest on his and he gave her a smile in return. "Dating is easier here, I take it," he said, half amused at his own words. If not for the resting cat, he might have taken her for a little stroll in the woods, under the moonlight. It might have been romantic... if not for the darkspawn, archdemon and blood magic all around.

"Blood magic," he muttered. Once he remembered that, unless he missed his guess, he realized he was probably in the middle of one of the first Blights, if not the very first. The Tevinter Imperium ruled nearly all the lands and used blood magic like it was free of consequences.

Of course, blood magic was the tool the Magisters had used to tear open the Fade and try to enter the Maker's realm. Practitioners of blood magic had started the Blight in the first place.

Still, he was stuck here, so he had to do what he could to help.


End file.
